


crash! boom! bang! (every time i fall in love)

by schwanenkoenigin



Category: Fifth Harmony (Band)
Genre: Angst, Drabble Collection, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-02-04 03:30:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 5,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12762213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schwanenkoenigin/pseuds/schwanenkoenigin
Summary: Camren drabbles. Based on one word prompts.Important: a lot of chapters include (mentions of) alcoholism and some other fun stuff. When needed, warnings are in the notes.





	1. love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> starting off light :)

Camila hears the curtain of her bunk being drawn back. It's a sound she's grown accustomed to. It's a sound that means one of her best friends is going to spend the night next to her. It's a sound that makes Camila realize just how lucky she is.

It's a sound that makes her heart melt.

While she thinks about  _how much_  this single sound means to her, someone sinks down into her bed. The person fits perfectly; Camila doesn't need to open her eyes to tell who's there. It's her  _favorite_  best friend, so to speak. Their by now very familiar scent makes a smile spread across her face. She eventually does open her eyes, but not before she has turned around in a way that allows her to look right into the green eyes of her bandmate once she has.

Instantly, her smile grows wider, and it seems to be infectious because Lauren smiles back in a similar manner. Her heart starts racing. She feels the fast but steady beat in her fingers – which are soon covered with the other girl's.

They're both grinning from ear to ear, still, when Lauren simply leans forward and gives Camila a kiss.

Neither of them has done this before. Kissing – it's something new for them. They've never kissed anyone – they've certainly never kissed _each other_ – but it doesn't feel strange. No– it feels like coming home after a long journey; it feels like the happiness you experience when your favorite song comes on the radio after not having been played for years – and yet you still know all the lyrics.

It feels like love.

Camila and Lauren fall asleep with each other's tastes on their lips, and they fall asleep to the sound of the other's soft breathing.

It  _is_  love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feel free to send prompts on [wattpad](http://www.wattpad.com/user/schwanenkoenigin) or [tumblr](http://kaufmirsterne.tumblr.com)! it can be a random word or a short phrase, whatever comes to mind :)
> 
> kudos and comments would be fantastic!! thanks for reading, see you soon :)


	2. drinking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warning** : alcoholism

"I'm so sorry, Lauren," Camila sobs into her pillow. She's half lying on the bed, half kneeling in front of it; it's a bizarre position, really.

"Sh," Lauren whispers back, "it's okay." She strokes her girlfriend's hair softly, comforts her. "It's been tough on you. But, please, baby, stay strong. It's going to get better."

"I don't– I don't even  _want_  to drink." Camila turns her tear-stained face towards Lauren.

"I  _know_  that. And very soon, you  _will_  be able to resist those impulses you get. Ignore the intrusive thoughts. The ones that make you drink."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> send me prompts: [wattpad](http://www.wattpad.com/user/schwanenkoenigin) | [tumblr](http://kaufmirsterne.tumblr.com)


	3. may

In January, Camila realizes that her feelings for one Lauren Jauregui might just have changed.

In February, Lauren catches up – she is maybe, possibly a tiny bit in love with Camila, too. She doesn't know it, though.

In March, Camila tries talking to Lauren, but the girl has had a bad day, and she wants to be alone, so Camila leaves it be.

In April, they smile at each other like they _know_. Without having talked about it.

In May, they do know. About each other's feelings, about each other's hopes, fears– everything. They're happy, they're in love, they're together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> send me prompts: [wattpad](http://www.wattpad.com/user/schwanenkoenigin) | [tumblr](http://kaufmirsterne.tumblr.com)


	4. hope

"Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, _God_!" Lauren exclaims, her eyes fixated on the wound on her fiancée's lower body. It looks bad. _Really_ bad. Camila has lost a lot of blood, and no matter how hard Lauren tries, she can't stop the red substance from flowing.

The minutes that pass until the ambulance arrives feel like hours, they're draining, but eventually, a paramedic approaches the couple.

Lauren has Camila's pale hand in hers, and even when the medic tells her to let go, she doesn't. Instead, she asks obviously in shock, "What's your name?"

"Hope."

She lets go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> send me prompts: [wattpad](http://www.wattpad.com/user/schwanenkoenigin) | [tumblr](http://kaufmirsterne.tumblr.com)


	5. (s)ass

"I like your sass," Lauren says out of nowhere.

Camila's eyes widen. Her cheeks redden as she turns around to face her friend. "Did you just compliment my butt?" she asks.

Their band mates start snickering. "I don't think you heard that right," Dinah laughs.

Lauren blushes, too, then. Her mouth goes dry. But she nevertheless manages to reply, " _Sass_ , Camz. I said I liked your _sass_."

The chuckles in the background grow louder.

"Oh," Camila says. She has to admit she's sort of disappointed. But on the other hand, why would Lauren–

"I think it's what she _meant_ , though."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> send me prompts: [wattpad](http://www.wattpad.com/user/schwanenkoenigin) | [tumblr](http://kaufmirsterne.tumblr.com)


	6. sky

**Lauren** ,

 _You're the sky_.  
Always bright and blue.  
Without it,  
I couldn't ever get through.  
No, I wouldn't find my way  
without the blue sky guiding me every day.  
It's clear, it's perfect. Even with gray stains.  
Never brings me any pain.  
It's almost too good to be real!  
Which is cheesy… but it's the way that I feel.

 _You're the sky_.  
So bright and blue.  
I look up!  
Clouds remind me of you!  
Without the sky  
I wouldn't know what to do.

Still, under all of this blue, I cry  
for I've always preferred the darker night sky.

**Camila**


	7. alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warning** : suicidal thoughts

You stare at the screen. Pictures. Tweets. Posts by people you thought were your friends.

They're out. Without you. Again.

You huff. You're never good enough. You're never anyone's first choice. You never get asked, "How are you? How have you been?"

Because nobody cares.

You roll your eyes. Of course they don't. You're nothing but a burden. To them, to society, to yourself.

 _Why am I alive?_  You ask yourself this question every night. But you can't come up with an answer. Because nobody loves you.

"I do," Lauren claims desperately.

You laugh. As if that'd ever be enough.


	8. vodka

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings** : alcoholism, suicidal thoughts

Vodka.

It's all you've been drinking lately. Because water doesn't calm you down. Neither does the orange juice you have for breakfast, along with cereal. (If you eat anything at all.) So you drink vodka. Sometimes you drink something more fruity, like cherry schnapps, but it's a lot less strong, and you really need hard liquor; so you always come back to vodka in the end.

You're a mess. Such a mess. And you know it. Vodka - or whatever else you choose - helps you forget that you are, though.

It helps you forget that you're alone, it helps you forget that nobody in the goddamn world cares about you, it helps you forget that everyone you talk to on a daily basis probably despises you.

It helps you. Period.

And that's why, every single day, you walk to the store - still half intoxicated - and you buy a bottle of the see-through liquid. You want to be embarrassed, you want to stop doing it, but- in the end, you never last more than a month without it.

You always, always come back to the love of your life.

God, you _love_ vodka.

Why?

Well... basically, you've heard from a few people that alcohol kills. You've heard _of_ a few people who drank themselves almost to death. You aspire to do exactly that.

Plus, it's, like, so good. It makes you lose your inhibitions, it makes you sleep with people who might have diseases you can catch, it makes you smoke - and smoking causes cancer.

You really can't lose with vodka.

Okay, you could potentially lose your life but- that's exactly what you want.

You laugh as you take your next sip. Straight from the bottle. The vodka burns your mouth, tongue, stomach.

Such a pleasant sensation.

You _really_ want to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> excuse my depressed ass :')


	9. falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warning** : suicide

Camila longingly stares at the windows on the top floor. The building doesn't seem tall from down here. Not  _too_  tall, anyway.

The sun is glowing, still, reflecting in the glass. Its golden shimmer is the last thing she sees before finally starts walking towards the entrance. As she's walking through the massive door, she sighs.

 _Now or never_.

The hallways are long. The elevators crowded. But she doesn't care. All she wants is to get to the roof, soon.

She gets out, takes another short stairway.

The sun, the skyline. The ocean. All right under her.

Yet nothing as beautiful as  _her_.

One more sigh leaves Camila's mouth before she slowly steps closer. And closer. Approaches the edge.

Everything's even more beautiful from this angle. Smaller. The cars, the city. The people.

The smaller the world becomes, the stronger her love grows.

It's why she's here. She closes her eyes, dejected, her arms hanging by her sides.

She's got to do this. She tells her herself over and over again. It's the only thing that can help. She knows this. She's tried so much, and this is the only option left.

"Finally, falling means freedom, not pain."

She jumps.


	10. mistakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings** : suicide, suicidal thoughts.
> 
> this is a long one i wrote last night. guess i'm getting worse again mmh whoops

Crying, crying, crying. That's all she's doing. What else could she _possibly_ be doing? The love of her life is dead, and she doesn't know how to go on. Lauren was her everything.

Okay, breaking down in a hospital, in front of Lauren's parents, no less, might not be her greatest moment but- she's just- she doesn't know if _she_ wants to keep living now. This is a nightmare. One come to life.

"How did- how'd she-" another sob racks her exhausted body- "how did she d-die?" She barely manages to get the words out before she sinks down onto the chair next to her.

Still standing in the middle of the hallway, not crying any less, Clara says, "She-" She never finishes. Instead, she, too breaks down, and her husband has to guide her to a chair. The one next to Camila, as it turns out.

Minutes of quiet - and not so quiet - sobbing follow, until Clara finally continues.

"She- she was- she had promised not to drink any-anymore. To you, too, probably. But last night she- she broke. It-" she takes out a tissue and blows her nose- "there was- we'd gotten some wine for- for dinner. And-" she closes her eyes, takes a deep breath- "I don't know. I guess she found the bottles. Two of them. She emptied them. They're still- still- still standing in the kitchen. But apparently it- it wasn't-" Her voice breaks. Michael reaches down, sits next to her. Holds her.

Camila, too, starts crying again. Covers her eyes, her face, with her hands. Tries to wipe the tears away but- more keep coming. It's no use.

Eventually, Clara explains further, "It wasn't enough for her. She- apparently, she got into her room and- and she- I can't even say it."

Camila bites her lip. This is the hardest thing she's done in her life, and, honestly, she's starting to wonder if she even wants to know what happened in the first place. Maybe she should just make her lips bleed, then her arms. Go home. Die. That seems like a good idea. The best, actually. What's the point, anyway?

Michael clears his throat, then, realizing his wife can't go on. "She drank the- the disinfectant sitting on her desk. She probably- probably mistook it for vodka. The smell and all..."

Shocked, Camila stares at the ground. Lauren thought of _that_ as the solution. So- Camila knows Lauren had a big issue with alcohol - _had_ had, really - but- this is- "What?" she quietly wonders, over and over again. "Why?"

"We don't know."

And then, it hits her. Maybe _she_ should have done more. Maybe she should have insisted on that appointment at the rehab clinic. Or maybe she should never have bought alcohol. Maybe she shouldn't have- and maybe-

She messed up. Camila messed up, and that's why Lauren messed up. Her own life, no less.

She huffs. Of course. It _has_ to be her fault. Everything is.

She really should disappear.

Forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol if you're up for some fluffier stuff check out literally any other of my stories/oneshots 
> 
> thanks for reading babes


	11. secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings** : sexual abuse, alcoholism
> 
> (i hate basing my drabbles on real life events more than ever)

"I'm going to bed." The words are slurred, just like they always are. Camila doesn't expect anything different at this point.

"Okay," she replies, completely indifferent. She shrugs.

"Don't I get a hug?"

Camila cringes. But nevertheless, she closes the distance. Hugs her. "Sure," she utters.

"Attagirl." She reeks of alcohol. _Same expensive rum as always_.

Camila only cringes more in her arms. Presses out, "Come on now, don't you want to go to work tomorrow morning?" _I just_ _really want to get rid of you_ , she mentally adds.

"Alright." With that, she leaves for good.

 _Finally_.

Rolling her eyes, Camila leaves the kitchen. Instantly closes the door behind her. Like in the movies, she leans against the door and sighs. Shakes her head.

"Wonderful," she mumbles to herself before she walks back into the living room where her girlfriend has been waiting.

She has a concerned look on her face. "What did she do this time?"

"Nothing," Camila answers truthfully, "she's gone to bed. She doesn't always, you know, touch me when she drinks. It's– I shouldn't even have told you. It's embarrassing." She bites her lip in shame as she stands awkwardly in the middle of the room.

"No, it was good that you told me, Camz. I would never have– I'd never have known. I never..." Lauren trails off.

Camila groans. "Yeah, nobody'd guess. She's this, like, important person that everyone in town knows. Nobody knows she– she drinks and–" She takes a deep breath. The words– she can't _ever_ make them leave her lips again.

 _Once_ was too painful.

Once was _enough_.

Lauren steps closer to Camila, carefully. Hugs her. Holds her tight. Caresses the back of her head. Quietly states, "No one in town knows the successful lawyer molests her own daughter."

"No. They don't."


	12. hurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warning** : sexual abuse/ domestic violence

The first few times he does it, it hurts. She says  _no_. It hurts. But she doesn't know any better.

She lets it happen.

Lets him claim her. Roughly. Night after night. After a while, Lauren becomes numb. Doesn't say anything anymore. Doesn't scream, is completely silent when it happens.

It's been months. He still does it every night.

Lauren found a way to deal long ago – she becomes someone else entirely. Isn't present when it happens. At least not mentally. Not emotionally. It helps. She can cope this way. It might not be healthy, none of it is, but– it helps.

Camila, her best friend, notices the scars when they go swimming. Sees the dark blue spots all over her body. Her neck. Lauren feels ashamed. Why didn't she think of covering them up with waterproof makeup? She's such a screw-up. He'll surely punish her.

Except he doesn't get the chance to. Camila sees right through her. Doesn't believe in her, "I'm clumsy like you, Camz, I fall down the stairs," act. Calls the police without her knowing.

At first, Lauren is angry. Tells her that. How dare Camila do that behind her back?

Eventually, however, she breaks down. In the middle of their conversation, in the middle of halfheartedly defending his actions.

"You're not a screw-up, Lo. You're a good person," Camila says.

Lauren doesn't believe her. She can't, couldn't be worth anything.

"Lauren– Lauren, you deserve love. Real love. Not what he claimed was love. It wasn't. He abused you."

It's sincere, Lauren decides in the end. Her best friend doesn't have a reason to lie.

"I love you, Lauren."

Later that night, she reviews the whole situation and invites Camila over. Hugs her tightly. Asks her to sleep with her. Tells her, "I love you, too."


	13. music

_It must have been love..._

_but it's over now_

"I've always hated this song," Lauren admits nonchalantly. She stares ahead, plays with the straw in her drink occasionally.

Over the loud music, Camila only barely hears her. "Yeah, why?" she finally asks, knitting her eyebrows.

"Don't get me wrong, it _is_ a beautiful song. But it just... makes me feel like, no matter how perfect your relationship is, how much you get each other, it's never enough. And, at some point, it just... ends. Inevitably." Lauren shrugs. Leans back, glass still in hand.

"You don't think there's always hope?"

"No."


	14. again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warning** : alcoholism

I don't mean to drink.

Really, I don't. (Which is usually the case.) And yet here I am, accepting the drink once five people have offered and I no longer have the strength to fight them off. When everyone keeps telling me that, "One drink is alright," it gets exhausting to roll my eyes and decline. So I say yes.

Smile. "One drink only."

They laugh. Say, "Sure." Someone winks.

I laugh, then, too. Think to myself, "Great, this will be a nice evening, with understanding people. This is what Lauren would want."

The next morning, I wake up with a headache, hungover as hell, with no memories of the past night and a visibly pissed off girlfriend sitting at the kitchen table. Definitely ready to shout at me.

 _How could I_?

 _Why did I_?

I sit through it, nod at everything, assure her and myself that that was the last time, that I'm never drinking again.

I manage one day.

She's proud of me.

On the second day, I fall back into old habits.

She may break up with me soon, but once she does, I'll probably get so drunk I'll barely remember any of it.

So, like, whatever.


	15. key

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy new year :p

"I can't find it."

"Can't find what?"

"It has to be around here somewhere. I left it on the couch earlier– after I got home, I–"

"Lauren, look at me," Camila says, "what are you looking for?" She approaches her visibly embarrassed girlfriend, gently goes to touch her upper arm.

"I–" Lauren mumbles, "where the hell did I–"

"Sh, come here." Camila hugs the taller girl. Strokes her back. "We're going to look for your key together, and–"

"My key?" Lauren draws back. "Oh, my God, _no_. I'm not looking for–"

"Then what are you–"

"I'm looking for my vibrator."


	16. belt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warning** : (implied?) suicide

Lauren carefully picks up the belt. It's her favorite. She caresses the worn out leather. It's brown. Well– it used to be. Only a few spots are left for one to recognize its original color.

This belt has been in her possession for years. She had bought it during her stay in Venice with her wife.

Ex-wife.

A sigh leaves her mouth. She's still in love. So she couldn't throw the belt away. Ever. It's a reminder of old times.

Memories embrace her. Memories she can't deal with anymore.

Which is why she wears the belt around her neck tonight.

 


	17. coffee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> since i'm aware that nobody reads these... i'm gonna stop writing them. and...stop writing in general. i'm gonna post all the drabbles i've written so far but that'll be it. :)

"Camila?" Lauren yells upon entering the apartment, "Camila, are you home?"

No reply. It's strange. Lauren frowns. She quickly takes off her jacket, puts down her purse and keys, and then crosses the living room. She lightly knocks on the bedroom door. "Honey? You there?"

Again, no answer. Her frown deepens as she walks toward the kitchen.

Camila is sitting at the table, staring blankly ahead. At the sound of someone entering, she looks up, however. "Lauren, hey," she says in a weird tone.

"Camz, is something wrong?"

"I'm on my seventh cup of coffee..."

"So?"

"I can hear colors."

 


	18. nails

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warning** : self-harm

It's an accident. The way it all starts... it's purely accidental. She doesn't intend for it to happen. But it happens. She's sitting on her bed. In her underwear. Her body is trembling. Her hands are shaking. If she tried to speak, her voice would be, too.

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She doesn't know how to get rid of this intense feeling. This feeling she's had for days, weeks, _months_ now, this feeling that won't go away and she– her hands are on her thighs, and for a second she forgets that her nails are long and it– it happens.

It just... does.

Her nails sink into the flesh. Her eyes shoot open instantly. It hurts. It hurts so much that she swears she blacks out for a second. She's not used to pain like this and, _fuck_ , for a moment, she completely forgets that she's trembling, shaking. That her brain is about to explode.

And that's when she realizes that the pain is, in fact, relieving. It's bad, yes, but _God_ , it's so relieving. She has to take another breath, and then she bites her lip. In anticipation. Because, wow, she wants, _needs_ to do this again. It's so great and– she does it.

Over and over again.

She does it often. So often. Every day, she does it. Whenever her brain threatens to explode, she does it. To get rid of that– that horrible feeling.

Then, at some point, nails become blades. The pain is even worse, even more intense now.

It makes the whole experience... _better_.

It helps her stop thinking about– it helps her stop _thinking_.

It's an accident that lets her discover something that she considers great, perfect even.

It's that great, _perfect_ coping mechanism that leads to her downfall.


	19. potatoes

"I fucking love potatoes."

Lauren stops what she's doing, detaches her lips from Camila's neck. Looks at her. Blinks. "I'm literally knuckle-deep in you right now. You couldn't have found a better time to announce _that_?"

"I'm just saying," Camila chuckles in reply. "Now, keep going." She runs her fingers through her hair, makes sure her neck is uncovered. Except– " _Damn_ , baby. Why'd you stop?" she whines.

Lauren leans back. "Well, I'm sorry but– potatoes? Not the sexiest thing to talk about. I'm not in the mood anymore."

It sounds like a challenge. Camila _loves_ those. "I can change that."


	20. lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warning** : mentions of alcoholism

"Why?"

"Um– excuse me? Why _what_ , Lauren?"

"Why did you drink?"

Camila turns away, grits her teeth. "I don't know what you're talking about." God, here they go again. She doesn't want to get into this.

Lauren huffs. "Right, that's why you won't even look at me right now." She crosses her arms in front of her chest.

"Look, Lauren, I don't know what you want from me," Camila sighs. She looks up at her girlfriend eventually, raises her eyebrow.

"I want the truth."

Camila laughs bitterly. "Believe me, Lauren, _no_ , you don't."

A scoff. "Yeah, alright. What, you don't think I can handle it?"

"No, I know for a fact that you won't understand it."

"Try me."

"I've told you a thousand times. I don't have a fucking choice."

"Oh, right, because you're quote unquote ill."

Camila rubs her temples. Walks towards the door. "Yeah, see, this is why I lie to you." She just wants to get out. "You absolutely don't get it."

"Because there _can't_ be _no_ reason! It's bullshit!"

"Oh! Okay, then. Why don't you tell my therapist that, huh? Apparently, he's been wrong. Maybe I don't need to go to the clinic next month. I just need to get rid of those _reasons_!" Camila puts on a fake smile. "You're obviously so much more of an expert on the subject."

"You're ridiculous. All I'm saying is–"

" _I'm_ ridiculous? Lauren, _you_ don't have to live with this. Don't you think I'd _love_ not to drink for a day? It's not fun suffering all the time, you know. I'm in more pain when I don't drink than–" A groan. "Just _forget_ this. You don't even _want_ to understand." She opens the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Out. This isn't working."

"So?"

"I'll pack my stuff. I'm leaving."


	21. hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last one for now

There's a loud _ban_ g somewhere in the distance, and Lauren and Camila flinch at the sound.

"What was that?" the younger girl asks in a hushed voice.

"I don't know, but it didn't sound good. We have to go," Lauren replies. She seems a lot more collected than her friend, but that's only on the outside. Inside, she's freaking out just as much.

"Where do we go?" Camila asks, worried, as she looks around. There aren't a lot of options, there's fire around them everywhere. Burning cars, burning houses, in the distance–more _bang_ s. Screams. People being attacked, or worse. "We won't make it out of here."

Lauren bites her lip and turns toward the shorter girl. Grabs her upper arms, makes her look at her. "Listen to me, I can get us out of here. You just have to trust me. I can orb."

"What's–"

"Sh, not now. I can't explain. Just– I can get us somewhere safe," Lauren finishes softly.

"I trust you."

Lauren takes Camila's hand in hers.

And– no building or place may be a home to them anymore, but in this exact second, they feel like they can become it to each other.


	22. tomorrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings** : mentions of suicide

"Camila...

I was waiting for you that day. I was waiting because you'd told me to. You'd said you wanted to get better for me, for yourself, for us. You'd said you'd try harder. You'd said you finally wanted to live again.

It made me so happy. I couldn't stop smiling on that park bench. Even with the rain pouring down on me. Even when I was so cold I trembled. Even when it was two hours past the time you said you'd meet me.

I'd had hope. I'd had so much hope for you because you, too, had had hope. You'd told me the night before. You'd kissed me, you'd promised you'd show me how much you meant it. How much you meant the words you said to me. How much you loved me.

And I waited. And waited. And waited. All day. I waited _for you_. Because you swore to God you'd try to stay alive.

Your parents called me. I was half asleep on that bench. Still had half a smile on my lips.

They told me you hadn't made it.

You'd asked me, excitedly, to meet you there. At our spot. Tomorrow.

But tomorrow never came."

 


	23. water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warning** : suicide

It's cold.

Everything around her is so, so cold.

Her arms, her legs, everything's aching, and everything's _so_ cold. She can barely feel her limbs at this point. They're almost numb. She's been fighting for minutes, probably, trying desperately to keep her head above the surface, but it's becoming increasingly harder, and she knows she isn't able to hold on much longer.

She closes her eyes. Prepares for the inevitable.

It's as clear as the water surrounding her that she's going to have to give up soon.

It comes as a surprise, however, just how _easily_ she can do it.


	24. shower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings** : self harm, references to attempted suicide

Camila sits down next to her girlfriend on the bed. Lays her hand on her thigh. Asks, "I'm going to take a shower, is that okay?"

Lauren hums and rasps out a quiet, "Yeah."

"Okay." With that, Camila gets up. She crosses the room. Takes one last glance at Lauren, and then opens the door to leave.

It's a quick shower. Ever since– yeah, let's just say she doesn't like showers anymore. And, also– she has this feeling in her stomach that Lauren– she can't explain it. It's just there. Like– something's wrong.

So, yeah, she makes sure it doesn't take more than ten minutes.

When she enters the room again, she gasps.

Lauren's still in the exact same spot, but she has something sharp in her hand. Camila steps closer. There are a few cuts on her thigh, as well as one or two scratches on her wrist.

"Baby, oh, my God. Let me–" She gently takes the object out of Lauren's hand. Looks at her, too. Intently. And–

Lauren's blank stare– her empty eyes indicate she's somewhere else entirely. She probably doesn't know _that_ she's done anything, never mind _what_ she's done.

Camila has seen this before.

The last time it happened, she found Lauren in the shower – which is why she can't see them in the same way as before – fully clothed, with blood running down her arms. The girl was freezing, and right now–

It's not much different. When she touches her hand, it's cold. _So cold_.

God, Camila desperately wishes there's something she could do to bring her back but– there isn't. So, instead of trying, she decides to get some disinfectant from the bathroom.

When she enters it– she sees Lauren. And blood. Lots of blood. Not really, of course, just– the image immediately enters her mind. She can't seem for forget that day. And how could she? Her girlfriend had tried to– Camila swallows the lump in her throat. _It's okay_ , she tells herself, _nothing is going to happen as long as you're here_. She straightens her posture and grabs the stuff she needs from the cabinet.

In the mirror, she catches the reflection of– the– the curtain again. Camila decides that she really, _absolutely_ can't stand showers.

She turns around to leave the room. She has everything she needs, anyway.

Lauren's waiting for her. _Smiling_. "I hate showers."

Camila sighs. "Me, too."


	25. together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just some angst. have had this idea for a while and wanted to write more but have no motivation whatsoever to turn it into an actual one shot so this'll have to do

It's strange---how it happens.

They haven't talked in weeks. Haven't had a proper conversation in months. Have been overall civil towards one another but-- but they've been roommates, roommates and nothing else, for a while. There are no more reminders in how they talk of how once they were the loves of each other's lives.

So it's strange. It's strange that, one night, when Camila is particularly worried about Leo, about his illness, about his more-than-tired moves, Lauren comes into the living room where she's sitting and starts talking.

At first, it's to Leo. About Leo.

But, soon, Camila realizes that, had the woman only wanted to talk to the dog---she would have found an opportunity with him, alone, as usual.

So she knows that, tonight, she wants _her_ to be there. She knows Lauren _wants_ her to be involved in the conversation. For whatever reason.

Lauren talks about nothing in particular, really. But she talks for hours.

And Camila listens.

She doesn't even realize that she does. At some point, she looks at her watch, and it's 5am, and she's still listening, and she has no intention of stopping. But she doesn't know why. At this point---should she even care? What Lauren says---it's intriguing, and she hasn't heard her in so long that-- it's just _hard_ to stop. Plus, she doesn't want to seem _rude_ , just getting up in the middle of--

 _Wait_. When did she go back to their relationship-y "not wanting to be rude"?

The two have been over for months. A year, almost.

Except... it doesn't seem like it tonight. Tonight, the two speak---to each other---and they listen, and they smile.

And they take turns tending to Leo.

And-- they end up hugging. End up telling each other how good it is, taking care of the dog together. How great it is, that they can still do _that_ , even though they're not together anymore.

And they end up kissing. They end up grabbing at each other's clothes, ripping them off of each other in arousal, in want, in need. Because they haven't had each other in this way in so long.

And _you_ \-- you just _listen_.

You listen to Camila on the phone, the next day, swallowing every time she takes a breath to tell you more.

(What choice do you have, anyway?)

Somehow, you knew _this morning_ that something was going to happen, something _bad_ , and now your feelings are confirmed.

The love of your life is telling you she's slept with the love of _her_ life, and you realize that she sounds happier than she ever has on the phone with you, and you realize that, even when supposedly miserable because she has to tell you this, she's smiley enough to beat the sun and its rays, and you realize that, no matter what she told you, no matter what you told yourself, she's always going to have a connection to _her_ , to Lauren Jauregui.

As she hangs up, pretending to be sad, you _are_ sad. You're _angry_ , and you're _disappointed_ , but-- you should have known. Should have known the love of your life never left _hers_ behind, never would, never could, no matter what she claimed. After twelve years together-- there's a bond that cannot possibly be broken.

And you realized that. The hard way.

And, unfortunately for you, nobody ever cares about the minor characters that merely help the protagonist find their true self. Their true love.

So you'll stay hidden forever.

And, somehow, the biggest part of you---the bitter one---is okay with that.


End file.
